


If Wishes Were Horses

by DameRuth



Series: Bliss [2]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Friendship/Love, Multi, Pre-Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameRuth/pseuds/DameRuth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even in the far future on an alien world, some midwinter customs are very human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Wishes Were Horses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lindenharp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindenharp/gifts).



> A pre-"Link" [Bliss](http://www.whofic.com/series.php?seriesid=708) story that could probably be read as canon-compliant gen, if you're so inclined.

Rose followed Jack and the Doctor down the pounded-snow path to the water's edge with small, careful steps. It was so cold the snow was as dry and gritty as sand, slippery because it was friable rather than icy. Rose took small, shallow, gasping breaths – anything else hurt, and could even be dangerous, Jack had told her. The air was utterly still and seemed to have squeeze against her from all directions, even though the Doctor said the air pressure here was no greater than on Earth.

Above them, a thin scatter of stars in the cloudless sky glittered like hard, unfriendly diamonds. It was midday, though you'd never know it with the sun permanently below the horizon in this deepest part of winter.

The procession in which they took part moved silently for the most part, just the squeak of boots on dry snow, a few whispers of conversation, and the occasional rattle from quivers of arrows slung over shoulders. There were no lanterns or other light, but the reflective white snow gave off a ghostly, diffuse radiance in the starlight that was bright enough for walking. Everyone was so bundled up they looked like slow, clumsy bears walking on their hind legs, but Rose didn't find that at all ridiculous. It was only good sense when it was this bleeding _cold_. She was glad now that Jack and the Doctor had both nixed her original choice of outfit, a flirty little fur ensemble she'd fallen in love with in the TARDIS wardrobe. That thin fur would have been about as helpful as a cotton shirt in this weather.

Jack turned to look back at her: checking up, but the way he did it kept Rose from feeling like a foolish child, for which she was grateful.

Jack's teeth glinted in the dim light as he grinned at Rose. “Cold enough for ya?” he asked, his breath smoking white.

“And then some!” she said, smiling back. “It wasn't even this cold on Woman Wept!”

“Hush,” the Doctor said. “This's a solemn occasion.”

“It'd have to be, for you to stop talking,” Jack said, so good-naturedly the words had little sting.

The Doctor was facing away from Rose, but she could as good as feel his eyeroll, and chuckled to herself. Of all of them, only the Doctor was dressed in his usual attire; the natives had been more than a little worried when he first made to step outside with no more protection than his usual leather coat, but he'd convinced them he'd be fine. He certainly didn't seem to be uncomfortable, striding along as usual, with his ears sticking out bare in the freezing air.

The last bit of path was steep, and Rose jump-ran clumsily down it but kept her balance, then she was standing on the wide expanse of frost-encrusted beach. Also unlike Woman Wept, the sea here wasn't frozen – the high concentration of salts and minerals kept it liquid, the Doctor had said. The great expanse of water was sliver-black and flat as far as the eye could see, only the smallest purling waves lapping at the frost-rimed shore. Their murmur was too soft to make even a dent in the immense arctic silence surrounding them.

Still without speaking, everyone began to spread out along the sore, spacing themselves at respectful distances from one another. Rose and Jack followed the Doctor until he stopped, choosing their spot. Jack was carrying their bow and the quiver with three arrows in it. “Who wants to be first?” he asked, slipping the quiver from his shoulder. When neither Rose nor the Doctor jumped at the chance, he shrugged. “I'll go, then. Got a light?”

The Doctor held up his sonic screwdriver, and Jack flashed another grin. “Of course. Always the sonic, with you.”

“Always the cheek, with you,” the Doctor returned. Jack didn't deny it; he just smiled and gave the bow a quick once-over.

It didn't look anything like the bows Rose pictured when she normally thought of Robin Hood. This was a high-tech conglomeration of pulleys and gears that was only bow-shaped if you squinted. Jack handled it with ease, and Rose watched carefully. Jack had given her a quick training session back in the underground city, before they'd come outside, but she was still intimidated by the complicated piece of equipment and afraid of messing up her shot. Not that anyone but Jack and the Doctor would probably notice, but the way everyone was taking this so seriously made her nervous all the same.

All along the shore, lights twinkled into being as people began lighting the specially-constructed fire arrows, and the first few glittering points of light began arcing out over the water, vanishing as they hit the black water.

\--

The way it went was, you fired your arrow in the highest, longest arc you could and while it was in the air you made a wish for the new year. In the classic way of wishes, you never spoke your wish aloud, to anyone, or it would be certain to fail. But the more times you could repeat the wish in your head before the arrow hit the water, the more likely it was to come true.

\--

Jack fitted an arrow to the bow's string and drew it back. When he was anchored at full extension, the Doctor snapped a quick sonic spark at the arrow's flammable head, which took light immediately. Aiming at a high angle, Jack loosed his shot, and then the three of them stood in silence, watching the small pinpoint of light arc up and way, getting smaller and smaller, until it fell and vanished. Jack, in particular watched with a fierce intensity, and Rose swore, when she glanced his way, his lips were moving, like a man praying.

With his arrow spent, Jack offered the bow again. “Who's next?”

\--

It was all so strange to Rose, finding a tradition she would have called _primitive_ back in 21st century London here on the far edge of human settlement in the 48th century. She'd have thought people in the future would have given up entirely on things like wishes, being more advanced and all.

According to the Doctor (who was having a day where he liked humans, rather than a “stupid apes” day), it was one of the great things about humanity,:the ability to believe in wonderful, miraculous things. “Keeps you from realizing what you can and cannot do,” he'd said, with great affection. “S' amazing how often that attitude allows the impossible to happen.”

\--

“You can go,” Rose said hurriedly to the Doctor. He raised his eyebrows, but accepted the bow from Jack without comment.

Jack also handed over the largest of their three arrows, the one sized for the Doctor's long-armed draw, and accepted the sonic screwdriver. “Just press the button,” the Doctor said, “it'll repeat the last action.” He was focused and terse, almost grim, and Rose wondered what her ancient, lonely, war-scarred friend really thought of wishes when push came to shove.

“Right,” Jack said, and he seemed to have caught the Doctor's mood, because there was no teasing to him, now, just business.

The Doctor drew all the way back to his ever-so-prominent ear without seeming to exert any effort at all. Jack struck the spark to set it alight, and the three of them watched the tiny light arc away much further than Jack's had, till it was a tiny pinpoint that finally went out.

\--

Jackie Tyler, unlike the Doctor, never had much good to say about wishing. “If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride,” she'd say with a sniff, whenever the subject came up. Rose had resented that at first, but then, over time, begun to see it as wisdom. _Wishing_ never made things happen, only _doing_ accomplished that.

\--

“Okay, your turn, Rose,” Jack said, taking the bow back from the Doctor and giving a few twists and tweaks to various gears and dials before handing it over – easing the draw, Rose knew, and she tried not to be too embarrassed. Jack smiled when he handed her the bow and arrow, reassuring, and the Doctor's hand rested gently on her shoulder for a moment.

 _Right. Let's_ not _bollocks this up,_ Rose thought with determination. She fitted the arrow to the string just like Jack had shown her – carefully, since it was far too cold to remove her gloves, and the extra fabric made her clumsy – and began to draw back, aiming high.

“Keep your elbow up,” Jack coached, reaching out to gently push her arm into position with his fingertips. “Just pull straight back . . . perfect!” When she reached her full draw, the Doctor lit the head of her arrow, a tiny bloom of light against the dark sky. Too small to make a difference, surely?

Rose exhaled and let her fingers relax. The string sprang free, and the arrow arced high and far. Rose held her breath and made her wish – standing on a wonderful shore she'd never have imagined in her old life, with her two best friends at her side, showing her new and amazing things the way they did every day.

 _This,_ she thought. _Just this and them and the TARDIS and every day like today but new, oh, this, this, this, thisthisthisthisthis . . ._ Her right hand, the one not holding the bow, curled into a tight fist with the intensity of her wishing.

The arrow struck the icy water and went out, like a fallen star.

Rose was brought back to herself by a low chuckle from Jack. “Wow. I bet you're getting _your_ wish. Whatever that was, you really want it.”

“Yeah, I really do,” Rose said.

“I know what you mean,” Jack said, perfectly serious. The Doctor said nothing at all.

Rose had an odd sense of accord; it was the strangest thing, but just then she was certain they'd all wished for the same exact thing, even if they couldn't say so out loud.

Around them, the last few arrows flew high and bright, vanishing into the darkness. Then a few breaths passed with no new lights, then the silence ended as people began to talk and laugh. All the arrows were spent, the time of wishing was over, the magic moment passed. The gathered celebrants began to break apart in small groups heading for the path back to the settlement. There would be warmth inside, and hot (probably alcoholic, if Rose had any guess) beverages to drink – at least after everyone had given their teeth enough time to warm up properly, and avoid cracking the enamel.

Rose and her friends hesitated to follow, and the sense of accord was even stronger: Rose could have sworn that none of them wanted to move away from this place, this moment, toward an unknown future. It was enough to make Rose think, recklessly, _Just this once, I'll believe; just this once, maybe a wish will come true and we'll all ride, us three beggars together and the TARDIS, too._

The thought was an odd relief, as if some difficult decision was made. At the same time, both Jack and the Doctor, looking out over the starlit water, sighed in unconscious unison, and Rose relaxed from a tension she hadn't realized was there.

“It's cold,” she said aloud, and shivered as she realized it was true: the cold was bleeding though her thick winter clothes like slow, seeping water. “We should go in.”

“I wouldn't argue with that,” Jack said, sounding a bit strained, as if the chill was nipping at him, too.

“Humans,” the Doctor said, shaking his head. “Always got to look after you.” But Rose noticed his hands were firmly in his pockets, and smiled to herself.

“Except when we look after you,” she said, sweetly, and turned away from the water. Behind her she heard Jack's chuckle, and felt another of the Doctor's eyerolls. She smiled, and placed her feet with confidence on the snowy path ahead of them.


End file.
